Turn a Little Faster
by say-when-swan
Summary: This will be my collection of Captain Swan ficlets. There will be mostly smut. Title from Accidentally in Love by Counting Crows.
1. More of You

**(Rated M) **This would probably be considered smuff. PWP. Happy 24 hours till New York Serenade!****

* * *

It was dark as Emma padded across the deck of the Jolly Roger. She'd had a relaxing evening with Henry and Roland. They'd shown Roland the wonders of Legos and spend hours building a castle of their own. Roland idolized Henry and despite his half-hearted complaints if the boy followed him around incessantly, she knew Henry was beyond excited to have a little brother, even if it wasn't by blood. Regina had been out with the famous hooded vigilante and it was the start of her week with Henry. When she arrived to get the boys, the creases in Regina's usually impeccably steamed dress and her ruffled hair had raised Emma suspicions as to why she may have been "held up" longer than expected.

She hoped Killian didn't mind the delay and for the fifth time this week she cursed his lack of a cell phone as she climbed belowdecks. It was just another thing to put on the "Get Killian Acclimated" list (along with driving and properly using kitchen appliances). He was only Hook occasionally now, sometimes in bed when he was particularly filthy or interjected affectionately into random conversation. To everyone else now he was Killian, but a part of him would always be Hook for her, just as she was Swan for him. Even in the few verbal clashes they'd had she'd refused to throw the moniker in his face, understanding how important it was for him to reclaim that identity.

When she quietly pushed open the door to his cabin he jumped up from where he was lounging at the small table in the middle of the room. His brace nor hook were to be seen and the warm feeling in her chest rose as she realized how comfortable they'd grown together. (Truthfully some nights she did enjoy when the hook made and appearance – but that was beside the point.)

For the most part, Killian had taken to dressing in clothing from this realm (_finally_ – he was walking sex in a Henley) but tonight he was in a simple black shirt and thin cotton pants clearly from the Enchanted Forest. Apparently he'd grown weary after only doing up three buttons and given up on the rest. She couldn't really complain though as she appreciated the large expanse of exposed chest, dusted with a healthy dose of dark hair. She bit her lip in anticipation as he stalked towards her, his blue eyes darkening as he caught the way she looked him up and down.

She stuttered a quiet hello as he slid his hand and arm around her. His offered greeting came in the form of a searing kiss. She melted into his arms as his scruff scratched gently against her skin, his head tilting. He explored her mouth, languid and sensual, until he placed a final peck against her lips and rested his forehead on hers.

"You're late," he rumbled, his nose nuzzling at her cheek.

"I'm sorry," she sighed as his scruff brushed over her skin again, "Regina was late picking up the boys, I think your _mate_ Robin might have had something to do with that."

Killian smirked and stole another kiss, "I can't say I blame the man," he chuckled, "I certainly know what taking up with a beautiful woman will do to you." As if in an example, he pressed his hips against hers and she felt the growing bulge his pants did nothing to constrain.

She tried to hold off on the steadily increasing heat between her thighs as she feigned indignant surprise, "So you have a thing for Regina?"

Emma loved that they were at this point, he fit so perfectly in her life and some days she could hardly believe she was finally this lucky. Her laughter and smiles were easy and the man's affection for her was palpable every time he looked at her. It was fitting that they had both endured so much to find each other.

A huff and the quick snap of his head indicated she was in for full-on sass from the pirate. She'd already gotten the reaction she'd wanted from her teasing and so held up a finger and tapped on his lips, "Only joking, _Captain_."

At the use of the title, Killian growled and crushed her to him, molding his lips across hers. The bantering portion of the evening was decidedly done as he twisted his fingers in her hair and roughly nipped her lower lip. His hips rocked into hers again as she slipped her tongue into his mouth to tangle with his. He must have been at the rum before she arrived because she could taste the heady alcohol and spice as he took his turned plundering her mouth.

Despite the friction he was providing, it was nowhere near enough and Emma steered him back the chair he had vacated and shoved down on his shoulders. He got the hint to sit and his pupils widened as she straddled him, now at the perfect place to grind against him. She made him wait though, kissing him fiercely and ignoring the fingers dug into her hips urging her to move.

"Emma," he groaned between her lips, "Don't tease, love."

"You only had to ask," she purred, rolling her hips, enjoying the strangled noise from his throat. Killian's hand fisted on the bottom of her shirt and wrenched up, she grabbed it and pulled it over her head. Before she'd gotten it off he was pressing open mouthed kisses to her chest. His tongue slid between the curve of her breasts and she ran her fingers through his hair as he pulled aside the cup of her bra to latch down on her nipple.

She arched into Killian under his assault and her feet scrabbled on the floor for balance, his left arm cradled her back in an attempt to help keep her upright. Moving to the other breast, he forced her bra down to her waist to give him better access. He swirled his tongue around and she ground down onto him desperately.

Her whimpered, "_Killian_," sent him into overdrive. Their lips clashed together again, messy and needy, and his fingers went to flip open the button on her jeans and shoved in them. She moaned as his fingers met her slick folds and he cursed under his breath. She needed more.

Emma stumbled back off his lap, already yanking down her jeans. "Off," she ordered, nodding at his pants, back and straddling him before he could shove them past his knees. Bra around her waist and underwear still on she felt wanton and powerful as he stared at her like he'd never seen the light. His shirt still on and pants halfway on, she couldn't help but think he looked more wrecked than she did.

He reached up to stroke his thumb against her cheek. "You're a bloody vision, Swan," he rasped, his cock pressing against her center.

She captured his lips, pulling her underwear aside with one hand and grasping him with the other, humming smugly at his muffled curse. Slowly she sank down on him, sighing at the stretch. Emma could feel him trembling beneath her with the effort not to move. She swirled her hips experimentally, her breath coming in ragged gulps. Killian exhaled forcibly and his head dropped back, eyes screwed shut. As she fastened her lips onto his exposed neck, he moaned, hips bucking up to meet her.

_Fuck he felt good._

Feet flat on the floor for leverage, she rode down on him, the silence punctuated by the creaking chair and their gasping breath and muttered curses. The burn in her legs muscles was sweet and hell if her blood didn't boil as he murmured obscene encouragements in her ear. "_Gods, just like that"_ or "_Bloody hell, don't stop_" and "_So fucking perfect, Swan_."

Soon his control shattered and he surged forward, cradling her as they hit the floor. And _yes_ this was perfect she thought as he drove into her, underwear shoved aside, her shoulder blades pressed roughly against the hard wooden floor.

His fingers pressed on her clit through the fabric and she couldn't help his name escaping her lips as he rubbed in frantic time with his thrusts. Her hands fisted in the back of his shirt and _oh god_ he was hitting the right spot, _right there. _It not enough but too much and then she was over the edge, writhing against him as he covered her mouth with his, muffling her cry. _Fucking hell. _It was though the haze of pleasure she felt him stiffened above her. A groan rose from his chest as he spilled into her, the spasms still rolling through her. He collapsed down on her, his weight delicious as he crushed her closer.

When his hips stopped rutting gently against her, she wilted against the floorboards, sated and spent. With a sigh her hands unclamped from his shirt and fell away. "Well, fuck," she commented, pushing sweaty hair from her forehead.

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her lips, hand sliding up her sweat soaked body to cup her jaw, "That we did."

She hummed contentedly as his tongue gently traced her lips and they came down together with tender and unhurried kisses. They rose as she started to shiver from the draft rising between the boards, untangling their limbs and making their way to his bed, finally taking the time to strip off their remaining clothing.

When they were snuggled together and her nose tucked in the small of his chest Emma felt brave enough to say it. "I love you," she whispered, pressing a kiss on his skin. It still wasn't easy for her, but she was getting better.

"I know, love," he rumbled, his arms tightening around her, "And I, you."


	2. Feeling This

**(Rated M) Smut, because morning sex is great. **

* * *

The deep recesses of sleep slipped away as Emma woke for the first time. She was warm and content, and the firm body behind her pulled her closer with a sleepy mutter. She closed her eyes and was happy to hover on the edge of dreams and waking, reveling in the closeness of him and the pleasant aching between her legs. Her grumbling muscles served as a welcome reminder of his ministrations of the night before.

She dozed intermitted until the stiffness in her joints sent her stretching with a sigh. Hook shifted again, burrowing his face into the curve of her neck. The scruff lining his jawline rasping against her skin sent shivers through her, pushing the last vestiges of sleep from her mind. She caught her name among his sleep-ridden, incoherent mumblings and a flush spread up her stomach as she felt the growing presence of his desire against her lower back. _Dreaming about her, was he?_

Slowly, trying not to wake him she detangled her limbs from his enough to shift around in his bed. Facing him now, she studied him through softened eyes. Hook looked peaceful and almost young as he slept, as if the weight of his centuries of life was lifted from his shoulders. Burdened or not he was almost unbearably handsome and gently moving her hand between them she took the rare chance to appreciate his features without his burning gaze on her. She traced his strong jawline over to his mouth, enjoying the stuttered groan falling from his lips and the stubble prickling her fingers.

She followed the contours of his face along his nose and those blue eyes finally blinked open as she followed the curve of his brow. Bleary, they met hers for a moment before dragging shut again, humming contentedly. "Enjoying yourself, love?" he questioned, his accent still thick with sleep.

She huffed lightly, not gracing him with a response. After all it had been him she'd fallen asleep to, his fingers dusting over the curves of her body, whispering sweet nothings into her hair.

His chuckle sounded at her forehead and she raked her fingers through his hair before ghosting them down to his side. She laughed lightly at the way he twitched as her fingers danced just above his hipbone.

"Ticklish, huh?" she laughed again, nosing at his chest. He jerked violently as she squeezed at his stomach. Still jerking away from her, he twisted out of her grip and reared over her, forcing her hands away.

"And you?" he rumbled, his hand moving to her waist, "Are you _ticklish_?"

"Not at all," she answered, smiling smugly as he tried to elicit a response.

He frowned, "No, I suppose not."

A small shift in the set of his brow alerted her to his intentions a second before his hand started creeping down the smooth plane of her stomach. A whimper left her lips as his fingers reached the cleft between her legs. A smirk melted the last remnants of his frown and his eyebrow quirked up in satisfaction as she pushed her hips into his hand.

"Easy, Swan," he grinned just above her lips, "All in good time."

And with just one languid, searing kiss to her lips Hook moved down to her throat, leaving her panting. His fingers circled gently at her clit, providing the most unsatisfying level of pressure, o_n purpose likely._ His teeth nipped at her skin and she pushed at the top of his head, encouraging him to move downwards at a more rapid pace.

His laugh was dark and pleased as he bit down on the curve of her breast, acquiescing to her silent plea after a gasp and a moan and quickly made his way down to settle between her thighs. Hooking his arms beneath her legs he brought his hand and stunted forearm to hold her down.

The sight of him waiting between her legs, his hair obscenely tousled and his darkened gaze, was enough but when his tongue darted out to wet his lips the heat inside her snapped. Her hand surged to his head, burying her fingers in his hair, urging him forward. And _fuck_ was it perfect.

The tip of his tongue lightly swirled around her clit and he pressed her hips into the bed. Emma reached to palm a breast as he dragged the flat of his tongue against her. His eyes flicked up to watch as he shifted, bringing his fingers to drag along her slit, entering her as she pinched the nipple. She gasped as he searched for the right spot inside her, finding it with a moan as she let out a stuttered curse.

Still intently watching her fingers on her breast, Hook closed his lips around her clit, timing the flick of his tongue with the two fingers thrusting into her. The pressure was intensifying and _oh god _was she getting closer. Her fingers gripped at his hair more desperately, hips rocking up into his mouth his name falling from her lips, "Hook_, fuck_, don't stop."

As Emma felt the slight brush of teeth against her clit, _ohh_ – she saw movement farther down the bed. Her pleasure ridden mind couldn't comprehend what was happening until he let out a low moan. With every thrust of his fingers Hook was driving his hips into the mattress, chasing some relief for himself. She met his eyes at his next groan, trembling and almost there. Her breath hitched and their eyes locked as he latched his lips around her clit, rippling the flat of his tongue against her and shoving his fingers inside her right _there._

The final thought of his hips still rolling into the sheets pushed Emma to her release as she held him in place, a strangled moan bursting from her as she bucked up into his tongue, walls clenching again and again around his fingers.

With gentle licks he brought her down, shudders wracking though her with each touch to her clit. He refused to let up when her hand fell from his hair but after another minute or two she was rocking up to meet him again, the flames reignited inside her.

A self-assured smile playing at his lips, Hook crawled up to plant a kiss on her, tongue tangling with hers and filling her mouth with her own heady taste. She swiveled her hips so that he lay hot and hard brushing between her legs. His hips rutted forward impatiently but she held back, giving his lower lip a last nip before twisting under him.

Now flat on her stomach, Emma threw a glance over her shoulder at him. On his hand and knees above her he clearly appreciated the view, eyes locked on the curve of her ass. Reaching back, she wrapped her fingers around his cock, grinning at the shiver that swept through him. Raising her hips back slightly she guided him in, his tip just starting to push into her.

Taking control, he placed his hand on her shoulder blades, pressing her into the mattress as he thrust home. From this angle he felt larger than normal and they were both gasping when he finally slid in all the way to the hilt. Slowly dragging out again and then back in, he sped up, setting a rapid pace that had her rocking back to meet him.

"_Fuck_, Swan," he rasped as he dropped down on his left elbow, moving his hand to tangle in her hair and drag her head back. The arch of her back allowed him to thrust deeper and she could tell he was getting close. She shoved her hand between her stomach and the mattress and brought it to her clit dipping down to where they were joined to coat her fingers till they slid slick against her skin.

With a growl Hook dropped his hand from her hair, shoving under her stomach and lifting her hips so he could slam into her from a better angle, pressing his chest to her back. She cried a string of curses into the pillow, hand twisting in the sheets beside her and the other dragging frenzied circles around her clit. Their sweat laced skin slid together, the hair dusting his chest rubbing against her skin, as he whispered, "_Yes_, Emma, come for me," into the nape of her neck.

Pinching at her clit and arching further into his thrusts she exploded around him, grasping wildly at his arm next to her and squeezing tight. He sheathed himself deep inside her one last time with a groan, her clenching walls sending him over the edge and she could feel him pulsing into her.

Coming down from her high She languidly rubbed at her clit as Hook slowly relaxed onto her, still enjoying the tremors running through her. He placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder blade before rolling off with a contented groan onto his back. They both lay there, panting, until she couldn't help herself and let out a small laugh, because fuck was that amazing.

He raised his eyebrows at her, cheeks flushed and eyes mischievous.

"Good morning," she smiled, her face still half in her pillow.

He smirked, "Undoubtedly."


	3. Buckets & Broom Closets

**All that talk about Killian and Emma getting interrupted constantly went to my head so here's a smuffy little bit about just that, located in the broom closet at Granny's. For reasons. Rated M.**

* * *

"This is a cupboard, love. Why are we in-"

He grunts as she pushes him against the closed closet door. "Shut up." She presses a hard kiss to his lips. "Just _shut up_."

Emma sees a flash of a grin in the dim light before his fingers are carding through her hair and he's hauling her back to his mouth. Their lips meet in a frenzy of knocking of teeth and desperate lip tugging, his hooked arm anchoring her to his body. She shoves her fingers in his hair, tugging at the thick, black strands, waiting for that little groan she loves so much.

_There it is. _

They hadn't really had time to explore each other, just little stolen moments like this but _god_ does she want to know. She wants to know what leaves him wrecked and desperate, what leaves those brilliant blue eyes dazed, what makes them dark and devious. She wants everything. And it scares her how easily he sends heat rushing to her center with a simple look or an unconscious perusal of that goddam tongue.

Hence why they are in a broom closet.

She fists her hands in the leather of his vest, knuckles brushing warm skin before running her nails through the hair dusting his torso (she's rewarded with another groan). Needing more, she fumbles with the buttons of the vest, unclasping them, quick as she can until she can shove it away. Better access to that chest of his is preferable; especially since she hasn't yet had the privilege of seeing him shirtless.

His tongue slides against her lower lip, soothing the spot he's been nipping at and slips past to tangle her with her's. She can't help the desperate little whimper that escapes and his hips stutter at the sound.

"Bloody hell," he breathes, his thumb swiping along her cheek.

"Don't stop."

She's been alone with him for five minutes, the town is probably due for another crisis.

"Oh I don't intend to," he growls, flipping them around and backing her up against the door, his hips snapping to that perfect place in line with hers. He drags her in for another kiss, rutting against her and she can't help but pull him closer. _It's perfect._ He's perfect and she can feel him, how much he wants her and as he presses against that toe curling spot, she can't control the way her hips roll in response. Their harsh panting and the occasional gasp fill the small space and make it even easier to get wrapped up in him.

She's burning, oh she's burning, but it isn't enough. She grabs his hand, guiding it to her chest and he takes the hint with gusto. His hook trails down her thigh and hikes it up to his waist while he feels her through her blouse. A little moan sends his fingers under her shirt and traveling along her ribcage till he finds her bra.

"You'll be the death of me, Swan," he groans, tugging the cup aside and palming her before rolling her nipple in his fingers. She keens as he crashes his lips back to hers urgently and she grinds down, dizzy with the feel of him.

This is not enough. He's driving her crazy and she won't hold back from what she wants anymore. She drags her fingers down his chest and stomach until she's hovering over his pants. As reluctant as she is to move him from where he's pressing so delightedly hot and hard against her, she'd rather feel him in her hands, or maybe sliding past her lips.

A quiet moan tears from his throat and he bucks into her hand as she rubs down along the laces of his leathers. Properly encouraged, she scrambles to undo the ties.

He stills and pulls his mouth away as she tugs them partway loose, "Swan?" His voice is deliciously hoarse, but he doesn't take his hand from her shirt.

She groans, head knocking back against the door, "I know we're in a closet but we never get any time alone and I can't stop thinking about it. I need -"

He silences her with a kiss. Then lifting his head he kisses along her jaw until his lips brush her ear. His voice rumbles, rough and promising, "If you want to be ravished by a pirate, Emma, all you have to do is ask." His lips close on the spot just behind her ear with just a scrape of teeth, fingers resuming their ministrations on her nipple.

"Killian," she pleads, her back arching off the door. They can play games another time but right now she just desperately wants him, wants everything from him.

His fingers drop from her chest and start to play with the button of her jeans, restless, she rocks her hips and he chuckles, "Patience, love."

Grabbing the back of his head she pushes his mouth back to her neck and loosens the last of his laces with the other. His fingers are distracting, creeping down to the edges of her underwear and they're so close to where she needs him. She knows she's wet, she knows she's slick and ready for him but soon he'll know too and she's biting lip in anticipation. Reaching in his leathers she finds nothing but Killian underneath (no surprise there, really) and he tenses as she feels him, hard and smooth brushing her fingertips and -

"Emma?"

At the sound of her mother's muffled voice from the hall Killian freezes, his lips still locked on her neck and his hand halfway down her pants.

Emma claps a hand to her mouth, quickly taking the other from his leathers.

_No, no, no_, it had been going so well. She loves her mother, but this isn't fair.

"Emma?" Her voice is closer, almost at the door.

She breaks away from Killian, wrenching his hand out of her jeans and wildly gesturing in the dark for him to put his vest back on and for the love of god he needs to do up some buttons. She adjusts herself so her bra is back in place and runs nervous fingers through her hair.

A knock sounds at the door, "Emma, are you in the closet?"

So this is what her life has come to. Sneaking away to make out - and it very well might never progress beyond making out, if people keep interrupting them - with her pirate boyfriend (somehow that word doesn't seen enough) only to be found by her mother in a closet.

"Do you need help?" Snow's concerned voice asks as the handle turns and the door cracks open, "Why is it so dark in -"

Emma leaps at the door, shoving it closed, her voice strangled and an octave too high as she responds, "No I'm fine, I'm really fine, really, just -"

Something crashes behind her.

"_Bloody buggering hell_." Even as a whispered curse it's too loud.

Emma turns to see Killian with one foot in a bucket and his arm bracing against a horde of mops and brooms threatening to bring him down.

A long silence stretches out as she stares at him with wide eyes.

"Is," her mother stutters, "Is, uh, Killian with you?"

Groaning, she lets her head fall back against the door. Best case scenario her mother doesn't figure it out, though that option is unlikely. Second best option is make up an excuse and both parties pretend that's actually what was happening. Third option, file out of the closet with Killian.

Second option it is.

"I was just, uh, helping him find… new towels." Emma winces, even to her, her voice sounds overly cheery and sweet but barrels on anyway - she's already dug her grave. "We'll just meet everyone in the diner."

"Oh, uhm, alright."

Emma sighs at the sound of her mother's retreating footsteps and turns back to Killian. He's managed to sort out his mops and brooms situation and is looking at her with a slightly predatory gaze.

"What?'

He tilts his head, a smirk spreading across his face, "We could continue what we've started."

She bites her lip, what harm could a couple more minutes do? No one would be looking for them now. "Okay," she grins.

Preening like an idiot, his smirk turns even more smug, "I thought you might say that." He draws out the last _t_ between his teeth.

She rolls her eyes, "Just get over here, pirate."

He takes an eager step forward, reaching for her and - **_clank_**.

Emma looks down, confused, and then starts to giggle. The goddamn _bucket_ is still stuck on his shoe. Peals of laughter burst from her chest as he clanks and clomps around muttering, trying to shake the bucket off, scraping at it with his hook.

When he finally manages to wrench it off she has tears in her eyes, his indignant expression certainly not helping. For his sake she manages to control herself, though still clutching at her sore stomach.

"It was just a bloody bucket…" he grumbles. (She can't hold in a giggle at the word _bucket_.)

She plants a quick kiss on his pouting lips before she tugs on his hand and opens the closet door, "Let's go meet everyone else."

"But - Swan," he whines, resisting half-heartedly.

She kisses him again outside the closet, a little longer and a little softer, and he isn't so frowny. He sighs loudly (like she's placed the utmost burden on him) as she leads him down the hall and once more on the stairs, but he can't help giving her a smile as she kisses him one last time just outside the doors to the diner.

(It promptly disappears when she whispers, "_Watch out for buckets_," in his ear before sauntering on inside.)


End file.
